


The Restricted Section

by Anonymous



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship, Frottage, Hogwarts Era, Hogwarts Library, Library Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:21:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26101078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Seventh year is pretty stressful, and there's hardly any time to see each other. But the library is almost always open...
Relationships: Marcus Flint/Oliver Wood
Kudos: 69
Collections: Anonymous





	The Restricted Section

Marcus’s neck hit the bookcase with a low, resounding ‘thunk’. 

Both boys froze and listened hard in the quiet aisle. Although they stood in the restricted section of Hogwarts’ library, the possibility of somebody happening upon them was higher than either cared to analyze. Once again Marcus thought to himself that they should’ve met up after curfew--hardly anybody broke into the library after hours. They also wouldn’t have to meet up in the library at all if they just waited, but his shorter rival could be stubborn. 

Oliver Wood pressed his forehead to Marcus’s shoulder and squinted his eyes shut, visibly straining his ears to listen. Dull chatter filtered back to the stacks they hid behind and the keeper finally dragged Flint further into the small maze that formed the restricted section, leaving an aged leather book (The Faire Imaginings of Blood and Beauty Magicks) and a few sheets of parchment on the floorboards. He pressed Marcus into the bookcase properly, the broad wooden side with a single placard at the top to read ‘Arithmancy-Blood Wards’ proved infinitely more comfortable compared to the various spines of books on the front. The added bonus of moving here also meant the chances of being discovered were greatly reduced.

“Want me to put up a silencer?” Wood breathed quietly into Marcus’s jaw. Flint tilted his head down and pressed his lips into Oliver’s slightly fuller ones in a quick series of light kisses. 

“Better do,” he finally whispered back. He wrapped one of his longer arms around Oliver’s broader neck and arms, clapping his hand on the firm padding atop the Gryffindor’s opposite shoulder to drag him in. Oliver avoided his partner’s searching lips and waved his hornbeam wand with a near silent incantation. Immediately their surrounding area, the stone wall lined with bookcases, the bookcase Flint found himself pressed against, and a small loveseat under one stained glass window that bled late afternoon sunlight into the dusty corner, became muffled. Little sound came in and surely none would go out. 

Their final year proved more stressful than either could really stomach. Weeks spent only doing schoolwork and quidditch (though they both loved it) wore on them the longer they couldn’t spend even a single moment together. Flint, while attempting to finally cram some studying in that afternoon with one of the coveted passes for the restricted section, was quickly dragged further into the cordoned off area by a determined looking Oliver Wood. He couldn’t say he minded.

“That’s more like it, right?” Wood grinned at him and finally pressed up to lick into Marcus’s mouth again. The wet sound of their lips smacking together and their combined breaths filled the air around them. Flint wrapped his arm more securely around Oliver’s shoulders and pushed the other lower across the keeper’s waist and around his back, digging his fingers into the thick material of his ghastly orange sweater emblazoned with an overly proud and equally garish gold ‘O’. 

“Missed you, ya know,” Oliver said and Marcus grunted back, smearing a kiss on the corner of the other boy’s mouth. Wood huffed a laugh and pulled his hands out from behind Marcus’s back, rubbing them down his sides as Flint shivered and finally clutching the chaser’s stiff thighs.

“You know,” Oliver started again to Marcus’s irritation, “Some people would consider it rude if their snogging partner didn’t at least talk back when they start whisperin’ little endearments in their ears.” 

Despite himself Flint snorted and fired back, “Pantin’ about how much you want me arse isn’t what I’d call an endearment, Wood.” 

Oliver smiled back and leaned up for another kiss, but Marcus leaned his head back until it met the wood of the case. Sometimes his impressive height was a problem but not today. Wood pouted immediately.

“You wanted to talk,” Flint said agreeably with an insufferable little smirk on his face. Oliver gave him a glare and slipped his palms from the sides of Marcus’s legs to the backs and jerked them out from under the taller boy. With a stifled yelp Flint gripped Oliver’s shoulder and shirt with white-knuckled fingers as he fell down to the other’s eye-level. The lion gave him a smarmy grin, showing all his teeth, and leaned forward to crash their lips together again. 

Kicking his legs for purchase, Marcus cursed his earlier thoughts on height. The awkward way Oliver held him up, balanced on the keeper’s muscular hips and held up by his big hands under his legs, meant that his feet could only scramble for purchase on the wood floor. His heels skidded on the ancient floorboards and finally slid to a stop, but he only managed to stabilize himself and take some of the strain off of Oliver’s arms. He couldn’t get enough leverage to stand up straight.

“You prick,” he said between kisses, “let me up!” 

Oliver snickered, his voice muffled by the Slytherin’s intermittent tongue foreplay. Despite the awkward position, both boys showed clear excitement from their activities. Wood pressed down on Marcus’s legs to drag him closer to his own groin, then ground his hips up to meet the uniform pants covering his boyfriend’s firm ass. Marcus gasped and jerked his head back into the solid wood of the bookcase, releasing another solid ‘thunk’ that both chose to ignore. 

Wood attached his lips to Marcus’s pale neck as the other boy panted at the ceiling. Flint’s pale fingers wound through Oliver’s shorter brown hair and pulled on the short ones near his neck as he tried to push down to meet Oliver’s increasingly heavier thrusts against him. His own cock was trapped in his pants to rub against the Gryffindor’s stomach, occasionally brushing against the heavy button on the denim jeans below the Weasley sweater. 

“Wood--” Marcus breathed quietly, pulling his legs in tighter around the other’s waist and scrabbling for a firmer hold on the floor with his feet, “Oliver, Olly, fuck.”

“Can’t right now,” Oliver panted back, pressing himself firmly into the curve of Flint’s ass over and over, “But we should, love, soon. Want to fuck you so bad.”

Marcus, pushing his head forward to fall in the gap of his own hand and Wood’s head on the shorter boy’s shoulder, muffled a distinctly desperate sounding noise in the wool of his sweater. He could feel Oliver’s swelling cock against the seat of his pants and fought the urge to just make use of the loveseat in the corner. His parents would simultaneously die of shame if he was caught literally fucking in the library in the middle of the day, he reminded himself. 

Every few bounces on Wood’s cock left him scrambling for more leverage when the keeper inevitably knocked him off balance and didn’t allow him to stand upright. His cock, trapped behind his own school slacks, kept catching on the harsh button holding back Oliver’s. 

Arching up and pushing his shoulders into the bookcase, Marcus gasped and dragged Oliver in for another kiss as his cock jerked in his pants. Wood obediently (for once) kissed back and held the taller boy’s thighs with a bruising grip as he set a piston-like pace against Flint’s backside. Sharing increasingly softer kisses, seconds later Oliver too finished in his jeans and breathed harshly against the Slytherin’s still open mouth, nipping on Marcus’s thinner lower lip as they shared a hooded stare.

A few charged minutes later Oliver stepped back and helped Marcus not fall on his ass. They both stood upright again and moved forward to snog properly; Oliver’s arms wrapped around Marcus’s waist in an iron band and Flint’s longer ones draped over Wood’s shoulders in a looser, less desperate way than their previous session against the stacks. 

“Clean up, aisle 4,” Oliver murmured with a laugh. Flint, predictably, furrowed his brow in confusion and the Gryffindor shook his head fondly before casting two cleaning charms on their respective trousers. Just in time, in fact, as Madam Pince quickly stepped around the corner right as he finished. 

“Where are your passes?” She said in her high-strung voice. Marcus patted his pockets and then looked over to Oliver in a panic. The parchment they left on the floor!

Oliver, in shock, rotated his head to the Madam’s face and gave a wooden smile, “We got lost?”

**Author's Note:**

> haven't written smut in a long time but have some porn


End file.
